


Peach Pit

by GarbageVanFleet



Category: Greta Van Fleet (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, F/M, Smut, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:20:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GarbageVanFleet/pseuds/GarbageVanFleet
Summary: Jake comes home from the bars feeling a little feistyWARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, Jake is drunkish and you're not (but it's completely consensual), BDSM
Relationships: Jake Kiszka/Reader
Kudos: 12





	Peach Pit

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is @garbagevanfleet as well; you can find all my works posted there too. Thanks for reading!

It’s the metallic sound of keys hitting the ceramic dish on your kitchen counter that wakes you. You must have been sleeping pretty deeply because when you blink your eyes open to look at the clock, everything is blurry for a moment. 

2:34 am

You’ve been living with Jake for well over six months now. It had been admittedly strange at first - living in someone else’s space. Especially when every single surface of the apartment was dripping with his personality. A stringed instrument in every room, nice jackets thrown over the back of chairs, and a million different bottles of cologne because he liked to “layer them”. 

Slowly but surely though, you worked your way in. It didn’t take a lot, because you didn’t want to change much - you love the feeling of being surrounded by him, but if a houseplant or two found it’s way around the little two-bedroom apartment, well. 

You hear the sound of a beaded jacket hitting the hardwood and frown to yourself. Jake goes out at night with his friends regularly, and he’s never woken you up coming home before - other than once or twice while trying to wrestle the blankets from your sleeping form.

But he doesn’t seem to be making any effort to keep quiet. You’re listening to him shed layers. Boots tossed clumsily in the living room, a necklace on the coffee table and one dropped to the linoleum in the kitchen. 

You’re facing away from the bedroom door, but the hallway light casts a shadow of his silhouette on the wall. You can hear his fingers fumble with his belt buckle, then he sets his phone down on the charging pad and it makes a chirping sound that rings through the room. 

You turn over slowly, brushing your hair away from your face to see his shape surrounded by a halo of soft light. You can tell just by the stature of his body that he’s less than sober, but the look on his face is something else entirely. 

“Jake?” you ask with a sleepy smile.

“Hi, baby,” he drawls, kneeling into the mattress next to you. His belt is hanging open, button on his jeans undone. 

When he leans in and presses his lips directly to your ear, a shiver wracks through you. 

“Did you miss me?” His voice is low and quiet, and his breath hitting the side of your face is giving you goosebumps. 

“Of course,” you try to reply, but it comes out a bit pitchy as he nips at your earlobe. 

“Well, here I am.” He sits back up on his knees and gives you a cocky grin, his white teeth catching the light. “What are you going to do about it?”

Just in case you didn’t know what kind of mood he was in before, your eyes flick down to the sight of his bare cock, barely contained by his open jeans. Leave it to him to not wear any underwear out to a bar, but his jeans are so tight that you can’t say you blame him. 

Obviously you’re not going to disappoint him, so you lick your lips subtly. 

Lowering your voice an octave, and mustering up as much sexy raspiness you can find, you answer, “What do you want me to do about it?”

His jaw tightens, eyes looking a bit wild as he rips his shirt open suddenly, buttons popping off and scattering about the floor noisily. 

“Come here,” he instructs and you shuffle up to meet his lips, your nightdress just barely covering your thighs as you kneel in front of him. 

Despite being clearly drunk and tasting of whiskey, his kisses are calculated and precise. He’s always been a great kisser, but the way his hand is gripping at your thigh, fingers digging in tight, is making it all the sweeter. 

“You want to play a little game?” he asks, and his smirk tells you everything you need to know about the nature of his proposition, but you give him an innocent look anyway.

“What kind of game?” 

He breathes a laugh and pushes you back against the mattress, opening your legs around him. 

You bite your bottom lip, starting to feel warm at your core - you always have liked being manhandled. 

A trail of little red marks is left down the inside of your thigh as he nips at the skin along the way. When he reaches the hem of your panties, he pauses and looks up at you. 

“Don’t lift your hips off the bed,” he instructs, and you brace yourself for it, but it’s not enough to stop from whimpering when his fingers brush over your clit through the silk.

You instantly feel tingly as plays with it, increasing pressure by a fraction every time he circles his thumb over it. It isn’t tough to stop yourself from moving at first, but when he pulls the fabric of your panties aside and laps his tongue against your skin, you have to intentionally press yourself tighter to the mattress. 

The heat of his mouth makes your toes curl and the whine that he draws from you would be embarrassing if you weren’t so preoccupied.

He laughs into your skin, sounding entirely too pleased with himself as he sucks your clit right into his mouth and rolls it around with his tongue. 

“Fuck.” When the word comes out as a growl, sounding almost nothing like you, you know it’s only a matter of time before he’s won.

You didn’t think it would be a problem, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep still, so you experiment. You try rocking your hips against his face, but not ever letting them leave the bed, but he doesn’t let you get away with it. 

“Don’t move,” he says into the meat of your thigh and then dives back in. 

Not that you expected him to, but he doesn’t go easy on you in any sense of the word. It’s obvious that he has a specific goal in mind, especially once he starts eating at you in earnest. 

You can feel yourself rapidly nearing an edge, and you’re so lost in it that, in a moment of weakness, your hips buck up against him. You know you’ve fucked up because he instantly pulls away from you and sits back up. 

The light catches on the sheen of your juices across his mouth and you let a high pitched whine as you start to lose the delicious feeling of an impending orgasm. You can’t stop your hand from snaking down your body, but you barely get to brush your fingers over yourself before he pins your wrist to the bed. 

He gives you a scolding hum through a smirk. “That’s not how we play the game.” 

He tugs the belt from his jeans, swiveling his hips to help, and when he has it free, he holds it up so you can see. 

The sight of it looped up in his hand makes you bite your bottom lip.

“Are you going to spank me?” you ask, trying not to let on how excited it makes you, but he knows. He can’t keep his hands off your ass on a good day, but on a day when he’s particularly rowdy, he’ll give it a good crack just to hear the surprised yelp you let out. 

“Come here,” he instructs firmly after he gets into a good position - his legs hanging off the side of the bed. You need assistance getting comfortable across his lap, but he patiently helps you, reminding you just how sweet he actually is. 

When you’re in place, he lifts up your nightdress and drags his fingertips lightly over the small of your back, just the ghost of a touch. When they catch on the top of your panties, he drags them down over the cleft of your ass until they sit bunched up at the top of your thighs.

He takes a handful and gives it a squeeze, getting you used to his hand being there, and the first slap is light and playful - simply a nicety. 

The second one is just a bit rougher, but still barely stings at all.

You think you’re prepared, but the third time his hand hits your ass, it makes a sharp enough sound that it rings through the room, and you gasp in shock. 

You can feel how hard his cock is against your stomach, and it brings you an unexplainably hot feeling to know that he’s so turned on by this. 

The fourth crack lands on the other cheek, but it’s harsh enough that it forces a whine from your open lips. 

Pain and pleasure have always shared a thin line for you, but the sounds that he’s able to pull from you just from this is alarming. You wriggle in his lap and hear him hum as it presses your hip against his cock. 

When he touches you again, you jump because you’re expecting it to hurt, but instead, he drags a single finger through the folds of your pussy. In an action that feels like he can’t help it, he dips it into you to the first knuckle. 

The intensity of the pleasure that spreads through your body as he rubs his thumb over your sensitive clit makes you feel a little light-headed. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you plead, trying to press back into it, but he just laughs and rips his fingers away. 

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to be patient?” 

You feel yourself pouting like a child. “No,” you grumble. 

“Well, today you’re going to learn.” His voice is absolutely dripping with pride in the power he has over you. You yelp as he delivers another smack against the first cheek again. “You’re lucky I’m a good teacher.”

“The best,” you agree sincerely in a high-pitched whisper. 

“That’s right.” 

You can hear him reach for the belt again, but he lets you anticipate it for a good few seconds, just so that it’s a genuine surprise when he uses it the first time. It hits against your swollen skin, and the pain is so sharp that you can’t even make a sound - you just let your mouth gape, sucking in breaths. 

You think it’s coming again, but instead, he pushes your legs open and teases at your skin before slipping a finger in. 

Your lashes flutter as he works it into you slowly, a string of filthy expletives spilling past your lips. 

“You’re so wet that it’s dripping down your legs.” His tone is playfully humorous, but still somehow remains entirely commanding. You didn’t need him to tell you - you can feel it creeping across your skin. 

“Another one,” you plead. “Another finger.” 

“If you get another finger, you get another slap,” he says informatively, and even though your abused flesh is throbbing, you grin through gritted teeth.

“In that case, make it two.” 

The laugh that he lets out is satisfyingly surprised. “As you wish.”

An animalistic groan rips through you as he pulls his finger out and then pushes three back in. The difference in size is startling, but it feels so intensely good that you have to bite into the fabric of his jeans to keep from being too loud. 

The sound of him thrusting his fingers in and out of you is lewd, but it’s the only thing that fills the room other than the sound of your uneven breathing. 

After a moment of it, he pauses and the loss of pleasure practically brings tears to your eyes. 

“No, please.” You sound laughably desperate, your voice already a little fucked out. “Please make me come.”

“Not yet, baby.” His voice is velvety soft, but to keep it from being too sweet, he brings the loop of his belt up and strokes the leather lightly down your jawline. 

You bit your lip and nod at him, and even though you’re anxiously anticipating the pain, you push your ass out just a little farther for him. 

He delivers the next two cracks a split second from each other, letting the belt hit across both cheeks. You bite at his denim again, letting a too-loud cry be muffled by it. The pain feels poisonous as it travels down your legs and makes your toes curl, forcing a tear from your eye. 

He helps you off his lap, being extra mindful of your tender skin as he lays you face down on the mattress. 

“You’re so good, babe,” he says, sounding like he’s fallen even more in love with you than he was when he walked in. 

He pulls your panties the rest of the way down your legs and lets them fall to the floor. When he stands, you can hear him struggle to get out of his constrictive jeans - you think about teasing him for it but just the thought makes your ass hurt, so you refrain. 

When he crawls back onto the bed, he straddles your legs and leans in to place a kiss against your lower back. His voice is gruff with want.

“Are you ready?” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for anything in my life, Jake. Please.” The words spill from your lips without any real spacing between them. Just for good measure, you press back against him, grinding your ass against his hips. 

A low sound escapes him, and you think maybe he’ll spank you again, but he places both hands on your hips and pulls you tighter. You’re so wet that when he grinds you just right against him, his cock slips right in. Your fingernails dig into the sheets, and you don’t try to stifle the obscene moan you make, because you can’t be bothered to at this point. 

You’re positive that you’re going to have some awkward interactions with your neighbors eventually, but you’d put yourself through that every single day if it meant he’d fuck you like this. 

There’s no more teasing - you had thought he might try to start with long, slow strokes just to really make you crazy, but he starts driving into you right off the bat with a force that has you gripping the edge of the mattress. 

His hips hitting against your ass makes the swollen skin throb, but it makes you wonder if you’ll be left with a perfect print of his hand when you go to inspect in the mirror in the morning. 

Fingers curl into your hair from behind, and he tugs your head back so he can breathe right against your ear. 

“Baby, you’re incredible,” he half-growls and nips at the skin on the side of your neck. 

The praise makes your face feel warm. You open your mouth to say something, but when his open palm smacks against your ass again, you’re not expecting it and you can’t close your lips quick enough to stop yourself from screaming. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, stilling his hips for a second. 

You whip your head around to scowl at him. “Yes, what the fuck. Don’t stop,” you scold, making a laugh rip through him. 

He fucks you in earnest until his fingers start twitching around your hips, and you can tell he’s close. When he pulls out of you, you whimper. 

“Turn over,” he says with haste and helps you flip onto your back. 

You wince as your ass rubs against the blankets, but it all melts away as his thumb finds your clit again. With a hand wrapped around the back of his head, you pull him in and let out a dreamy sounding moan into his mouth. He chuckles at you and when he slides his cock in again, your eyes roll back. Pleasure starved, your body instantly remembers the tingly heat, and you’re able to pick up where you left off - peering over the edge of an orgasm. 

He pulls away from the kiss and teases his fingers over your mouth, all while never letting his hips lose rhythm. His skin still tastes like your juices, and you make a show of licking them clean for him.

He gives you a smirk before shoving them in a little forcefully, causing you to gag. His breath is hot when it hits your cheek.

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to come,” he says like a plea. 

Even though it hurts to move too much, you wrap your legs around his hips as his thumb starts to flick at your clit 

Your fingernails dig into his sides as you press your face against his neck and bite, pushing a high whine against his skin. 

You nearly blackout when you come - it’s such an intense orgasm that you’re not sure you’ll make it through. He holds you tight against his chest and fucks you through it, breathing praises into your hair. 

When you’re coherent enough to remember who and where you are, you realize that he’s patiently waiting for your go-ahead to keep going. With a laugh, you push him off of you and sit back up on your knees. 

His face is completely shocked until you dip down and take his cock into your hand and you instantly part your lips. He sucks in a sharp breath as his fingers tangle in your hair, and you take it down until your nose hits his stomach. You only get to suck him off for a few seconds before he’s pulling you off it and coming hot streaks against your cheek. As your eyes watch him slide the length of it through his fist, you turn and take the head into your mouth. You suck it clean as you stare up at him through your lashes. He watches with a dazed look for a second before pulling it away from you with a smirk. 

You press a kiss against his chest before he stands and disappears out into the hallway, and when he returns, it’s with a damp washcloth and a bottle of water. 

He’s an entirely different person than he was when he walked in the front door - his eyes are soft, and so is the smile that he offers you as he wipes your cheek clean. You take a few sips out of your bottle as he tosses the rag into the hamper by the bed. 

When he lays down into bed, he pulls you tight against him, and both of you are damp with sweat, but you can’t be fucked to care. 

You lay your head on his chest and cuddle in, peering up at his face. 

“I’m not going to be able to sit right for a week, Jake,” you faux-scold. 

The cocky smirk he gives you only serves to make you laugh. 

“Good.”


End file.
